Keep Warm
by StarWarrior72
Summary: Luke Skywalker has been called to a planet he's never heard of to meet with his father. This time round, he's determined not to freeze to death, but his goal gets a little harder to achieve when it turns out his father has left instructions to follow him across a frozen wasteland. But now that he's come this far, he's not ready to give up.


Luke Skywalker had had just about enough of snow. He kicked a lump of it down a small slope, watching as it skittered across an icy finish. Realizing that it was probably faster, he sat down on the ice crust, and shoved himself down after the snow. Much to his dismay, the ice at the bottom of the hill was not as thick as it had been further up, and he slid straight through it, filling his mouth, and, more uncomfortably, nose and eyes, with snow.

He clawed back out of the snow bank, spitting out rapidly melting snow, and trying to sneeze out what had ended up in his nose. If this was Vader's idea of a joke, Luke was _not_ laughing. He managed to regain his footing and stood up.

"Father!" he shouted across the icy landscape, "Father, where are you?" The blindingly white snow muffled his calls, though.

Typical. He kicked at the snow at his feet, moving aside just as it broke. This was absolutely brilliant. He was stuck on a planet that reminded him too strongly of Hoth, and finding his father was proving to be a disaster and a half. Leave it to a Sith to tell him where to leave his ship, but make no mention that he would be headed across the icy tundra.

As the snow underneath him gave way once again, Luke realized that his father's greater mass would have punched right through the snow, leaving an easy to follow trail. It was too cold here for real snowfall, and it didn't seem half as windy as Hoth.

Sighing, he began to ascend the hill he'd just slid down. That would be the best vantage point from which to see any tracks. He made his way slowly, kicking footholds in the snow and cursing himself for not having thought of this sooner. As he reached the top again, he sat down in the snow, needing to rest.

He had prepared himself better for the cold than he had in the past, but now his body was too warm, and his hands and feet too cold. Besides that, his ears hurt, and his nose was running constantly. He wouldn't have chosen for his father to see him in this state, but he had little choice now. Vader's agreement to meet him at all had been stunning, and he didn't want to miss his opportunity.

He pushed himself to his feet again, looking down the hill. He had managed to walk further than he had thought, he realized, because the village in which he'd left his X-wing was now a barely-visible bump on the horizon. In all directions, there was snow. Squinting to try to detect any slight darkenings that might have indicated a slight hole, Luke reflected that his father would, at least, be easy to spot. Black on white was hardly the best camouflage, and as he remembered his own previous adventures on icy planets, he looked down at his own black clothing, he sincerely hoped that wampas had yet to discover _this_ godforsaken lump of cold.

He finally spotted what looked like a slightly-darker spot on the snow, and he propelled himself down the hill in that direction, nearly ninety degrees off of his first choice. He was lucky the townspeople had been able to direct him in the general direction his father had departed, even if they hadn't had the decency to show him the exact tracks.

As he reached the bottom, he stood back up, balancing carefully on the snow, not wanting it to give way. Perhaps this would be good practice for his Jedi abilities. He began choosing his footsteps more carefully as he approached the slight darkening. Soon enough, it elongated into a path of small indents, and Luke knew that he was on the right track.

He glanced back towards the village, and choose the direction heading away from it, wishing that he could go back to the warm home he had been invited into for dinner upon arriving. Slowly, carefully, he began walking along the crust of the snow next to his father's tracks.

A few times he fell through, each time when he got too close to Vader's footsteps, but he was feeling better about the slip ups now, ready to hop back out of the snow and continue. He felt invigorated by knowing that he was on the right track, and each time he glanced at how deep the tracks his father had left were, he had to hold back a laugh at how ridiculous the Empire's second in command must have looked walking across here. Undoubtedly, anyone stupid enough to laugh would already be dead.

As the sun reached its most glaring, Luke sat down on the snow and ate a ration bar, gazing out across the frozen landscape. His father's tracks were nearing some long-dead frozen trees, and they glimmered in the sunlight, giving the path the feeling of a child's fairy ring. As soon as he was done the flavourless meal, he stood again, allowing himself to run towards the trees. He felt as though he might have been nearing his father, and he wasn't feeling patient enough to walk anymore. The ice had long proven thick enough to hold his weight, and there was something tantalizing about the idea that he wasn't running on solid ground, but a layer of frozen water, true ground several feet below his own.

As he neared the trees, he slid to a halt. Given the amount of control he had over his current motion, he didn't think that running on the ice through a forest of potentially very harmful ice spears seemed like a good idea.

He paused a moment to catch his breath, and gazed at one of the trees. It looked as though it had been encased in crystal, and Luke snapped off a branch and held it up to the light, fascinated by the dancing light within it. Carefully laying it on the snow, he snapped off another branch, lined with small icicles, and snapped off a few of those, popping them into his mouth. He hadn't brought water, thinking he would find his father long before he would need it without the hot Tatooine suns to dry him out, but the cold was proving just as uncomfortably dehydrating.

The frozen water from the branch was probably the purest he had ever tasted, and Luke marvelled at it. Now that he knew he was on the right track, it seemed that the whole planet was more comforting and likeable. He began walking again, noting where Vader had slipped and fallen, where branches had been snapped off simply because Vader had not noticed them.

He was getting close now, he could feel it. And despite the beauty of the frozen forest, he was very glad of it. It was getting dark, and Luke knew all too well that with dark the world would get even colder. He stuck his frozen hands back into his pockets and plodded onwards.

At long last, Luke spotted a figure in the distance, black cape swirling around it, stumbling through the snow with the least dignity and grace Luke could imagine the man showing.

"Father!" he shouted after the man, but Vader didn't turn, "Father!"

Still no answer. Luke sighed, and slipped through the last of the trees as quickly as possible. As soon as he was free of them, he raced after Vader, skidding down hills he hadn't realized he had climbed whilst in the trees. As he reached the top of the last hill before his father, Luke simply threw himself down on the ice and slid down, shooting right past his father.

_That wasn't very dignified,_ he realized as he stood, and ran back to his father.

"Father!" he said happily, reaching out to the Sith Lord.

Vader's only answer was to swear as his foot slipped through the snow further than it had in previous footsteps.

Luke had never imagined that Vader would swear. The man was always cold and stonily silent, but was well known for a fiery temper that leaned towards immediate murder rather than anything as gentle as swearing. He wasn't sure if this indicated a higher level of fury, or perhaps one that Vader would usually have simply converted to something greater.

"Are you all right?" he asked, offering his hand as a grip.

"I'm fine," Vader snapped, yanking his leg back out of the snow.

As he continued walking, Luke balanced along atop the snow beside him, "Where are we going to stop?"

"I hoped to reach the old Republic outpost by tonight," Vader answered.

"There's a Republic outpost around here?" Luke asked immediately, "I didn't know the Republic had a base here."

"It's a very small base," Vader informed him, taking another laboured step, "It was abandoned shortly after the Republic was converted to the Empire due to lack of funds."

"Oh," Luke said, "Are you hoping to take it back for the Empire?"

Vader shook his helmet, "This planet is worthless. The Republic was here only to aid the locals."

Luke continued walking, resisting an urge to try to help his father. He was immensely glad that he had caught up with his father. Walking across the barren landscape alone had been one of the loneliest feelings he'd ever encountered. Now, although Vader's only words were angry ones pertaining to snow, he had a companion. He let his consciousness merge with his father's, feeling the irritation each step brought the older man, helping to ease his father's long-hidden pain.

Finally, he grew bored of walking in silence, "If this planet is worthless to the Empire, why did you bring me here? And why do you want to reach an abandoned outpost?"

Vader swore very loudly as he slipped in up to his knee, and he finally accepted Luke's help in removing that leg, which didn't seem to be willing to bend in any sort of way that would make it easier to remove from the snow. As Luke knelt down on the snow in front of him, digging the ice covered snow away from the front of his leg, Vader explained, "I brought you here to test your skills, a qualifying exam, if you will."

Luke laughed, "I never knew there was a test to be a son."

"And I hadn't thought that it would be so difficult for me," Vader answered.

"You should be able to move your leg again," Luke said, standing up, "Have I passed my test?"

Vader took a step and sank back into the snow, merely sighing exasperatedly, "You are certainly doing better than I."

Luke removed his lightsaber from his belt, melting the snow in front of his father in order to help him walk. The blade vaporized some of the snow, then melted a layer, which froze again instantly, and proved much thicker than the natural one, holding Vader's weight much better.

"Stop," Vader told Luke at last, when they had crossed only a few dozen meters of snow, "You will only tire yourself and run down the power in your weapon."

Luke continued to melt the snow, "I'm not afraid that you'll attack me," he said honestly, "I trust you to care for me a bit better than that."

"It may not be me you should worry about," Vader answered, "Although I do not remember any particularly large or hostile inhabitants, I would not want you to meet any unarmed."

"Ah," Luke said, looking down at the green blade, "I see what you mean," he turned off his 'saber and hung it on his belt again, "You won't mind the snow falling through under you, then?"

As Vader's foot slipped through again, he said, "Of course I'll mind. Only less than I would if you were harmed because of me. We should come across the crashed transport soon. Once we've reached it, we will have only another kilometer, or perhaps two."

"Good," Luke said, "I really hope there's some kind of operational heating system still there."

"Not there," Vader answered, and Luke was about to sigh when his father continued, "I brought one for you."

"You?" Luke guessed, hoping he wasn't over-estimating his father's sense of humour.

He sensed Vader's smile, "Two," he amended.

"Thank you," Luke said, taking off his left glove so he could thaw his fingers in his mouth.

"Don't do that," Vader told him immediately, "You will only get them damp, and that might well bring frostbite."

Luke looked at his now-exposed hand, "What am I supposed to do to keep it warm then? I'm already down one arm, and I'd like to keep my remaining fingers."

The Sith reached into a pouch on his belt and produced what looked like a small pack of gel. The thick, clumsy black gloves fiddled with it for a moment, before there was a gentle snap to be heard, and he passed it to Luke, who was glad to feel the warmth on his cold fingers.

"Thanks," he said, putting it in his pocket and wrapping his hand around it, "I don't suppose you've got another one for my right hand?"

"Your other hand is prosthetic, why not simply turn off the nerves?"

"Um," Luke said awkwardly, taking the little heat pack back out of his pocket and holding it in both hands, "I like to be able to feel the things I touch."

"I haven't got another," Vader answered.

Luke continued to hold the pack tightly even as it warmed up to a temperature almost too warm to bear. Once it had cooled slightly, he pressed it against his face, warming himself up properly with it. His father watched in silence, and Luke felt as though the man was memorizing his actions, as though they could help him in some way in the future.

As they crested another hill, Luke saw the forlorn remains of a ship strewn across a small valley.

"Not far now," his father told him, climbing onto a piece of metal that had apparently flown from the ship in the crash. Luke leapt after Vader, and the older man soared from piece to piece until they had crossed the debris field and he was forced to continue wading through the snow.

Feeling his toes becoming more numb, Luke surreptitiously used the Force to strengthen the snow for his father to walk on, wanting to hurry the process and reach the outpost as soon as possible.

"Luke," Vader said warningly.

"I'd rather be tired than cold," Luke answered, continuing to strengthen the ice. Vader didn't seem to be able to come up with an argument to that, because he continued walking on the fortified snow without further debate.

At last, they reached the outpost, and Vader led Luke inside, showing him into one of the deeper rooms. Vader brought out a light, and carefully repaired the door's mechanism, shutting it before sitting down next to Luke, who was shivering from head to toe.

"I had forgotten that it is possible to get so cold," he said by way of apology.

"Lucky you," Luke muttered, wrapping his arms around his legs. He leaned against Vader as the Sith removed his cape and wrapped it around his shuddering son instead. As Vader reached into a pouch on his belt, Luke shrugged his backpack off, putting it down beside himself and rewrapping the cape. He pulled out a safety blanket as his father started the tiny space heater, allowing Luke to bring it very close to himself, and continue to snuggle against his father.

Luke began to thaw, finally removing his boots and socks so that he could get his feet closer to the heater, and out of their now-drenched wrappings. Vader made no complaint, taking Luke's pack and bringing out a small cook stove, and starting to boil some ice he'd brought in. Luke watched silently, warming his hands by cupping the little heater in them. It was too warm for this, really, considering it had already elevated the temperature in the room to a balmy three degrees Celsius, and he soon put it back down.

Once the water had boiled, Vader took the little heating pack he'd given Luke earlier back, placing it in the water for a few minutes before removing it with the Force and laying the small pouch on the floor. He then proceeded to take a plastic mug from Luke's pack, pouring in a powdered drink mix before adding the boiling water.

Luke immediately reached out for the hot chocolate, and Vader put it in his hands, apparently knowing that Luke only really wanted it to warm his hands at the moment. He watched as Vader cleared away the water heater before returning to sit next to Luke once more.

Luke leaned comfortably on his father, and Vader didn't object. They sat side by side, watching their little heater monitor the temperature in their little hideout. Luke drank his hot chocolate, and started to drift off, and, though he later tried, he could never tell when his father put a warm arm about him.


End file.
